


Further from the Sky

by hands0me_rhys



Series: Drake [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Near Death Experiences, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13493082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hands0me_rhys/pseuds/hands0me_rhys
Summary: Nathan has a near death experience.





	Further from the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: In no way do I condone underage and/or incestuous relationships. I do not, under any circumstance, think it justifiable for a teenager to be intimately involved with a grown adult. There is a bold line between fictional and reality. This is a fictional work. These characters do not exist in the real world. I do not wish to offend or harm anyone mentally or physically, and feel that it must be brought to attention as to not hurt anyone or indirectly cause ill intent. You have been advised.

Nathan undoubtedly knew most of his predicaments stemmed from his older brother. There’s no other way around it, or a vaguely gentle touch to instigate; Sam seemed to attract trouble like mosquitoes on damp skin in the summertime.

All he had to do was direct that stupidly arrogant and insatiably hot smirk in someone’s direction, and there would be guns blazing— and that was the least of it.

They’ve been sleeping in peculiar places for the past few years, and Sam seemed to make some unsavory friends each time they made camp in a new area. Nate didn’t know how he even managed it, but that was how Sam operated; barely evading fire and still pouring gasoline.

“Don’t pout, Nathan.”

The younger sibling furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m not pouting.” Samuel’s lustrous little grin revealed that warm amusement. Nate felt his patience dwindle, and his cheeks burned shamefully. “Listen, little brother; after this job, we leave Kazakhstan— backpack it all the way to Colombia.”

It’s sunset, from what peeked through the shades of the dingy motel room. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.” Nathan grunted in frustration, splayed out on the bed, jacket one size too big and chest rising in unison.

“I’m not shitting you, okay?” His older brother’s tone became genuine in that moment. Nate’s gaze slid across the room to Sam, standing at the stove and butchering scrambled eggs. He knew how Nathan liked them. The boy almost felt bad, hearing him sound.. soft, like Nate had said something in ill taste. The teen bit the inside of his cheek, stomach knotting up feverishly.

“I know, Sammy.” He sat up from the bed. His fingers curled into the sheets underneath him. Nate wanted to kiss him. He always does, and when they do, his body tingles and he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings— of course, _other_ than masturbating to the thought of his big brother.

It’s so taboo, in the sense that Nathan could choke on it. He’s afraid, no matter how many times Sam would initiate something. The insecurities alone were enough to make Nate shy away. His brother has been with so many people— women, men, god knows. Nate was fourteen and the most he’s done on his own accord was kiss a girl or two.

The only person he’s ever had sex with was _Sam_ , and his older brother had been the instigator in that aspect. Maybe it was wrong, maybe they were morally crooked, but Nathan didn’t care; he loved him. He wanted to be with him, even if it won’t always be the way it is now.

The teen watched his older brother; he’s swaying his hips to unidentifiable music, all in his head. Nathan’s face felt hot, like he shouldn’t be watching, and he forced his legs together harshly, before he mustered up the courage to stand. His sneakers tug at the carpet, worn at the sole and apparent in use.

Nate couldn’t bare to part with them, though. He’s had them since _before_ the boy’s home, when it was just him and Sam against the world. His older brother tensed some, visibly surprised when Nate wrapped his arms around his middle.

The difference in height was almost sweet, with Nathan’s face pressed embarrassingly against his back. Sam hid the cheshire likeness, a teasing purr nestled deep in the back of his throat. “Missed me?” The man remarked, lips quirked, but they soften at Nathan’s silence. “What’s the matter, pal?” Nate could hear the click of the stove being turned off, and then Sam maneuvered them to face his younger brother.

The teen almost whined, but Sam sated him by cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up to force eye contact. “You have to promise me.” Nathan bit the inside of his cheek, almost regretting having said it, but Sam’s eyes were genuine and a firm set formed in his jaw.

“There is _nothing_ that’s going to stop me from getting us out of here, Nathan. I promise.”

* * *

Nathan stepped quietly, red faced from the winter chill and coat zipped up to his chin. His fingers rolled over the edge of the chimney, atop the roof while Sam worked the skyline open with a crowbar. The boy was partially more concerned as to why this house (—would you even call it that? More like.. a mansion) was so deeply nestled in the forest.

Not to mention the people who owned it must be loaded, and could live wherever they wanted, but decided to live _here_. 

A lake, frozen over and blanketed by snow, was visible through the trees. Nate itched at the view, stomach rolling almost joyously at the sight. The moon and stars hung in the air, and snow fell in flakes. He wished he could see the world from this perspective, always. “Nathan,” The older sibling called in a hushed fashion. The teen couldn’t hear him the first time.

“ _Hey_ , little brother.” Nate whipped his head around, and Sam beckoned him over. The grin rising on his face was particularily alluring, and enticed the younger boy to his side. “C’mere, gimme a hand.” Nathan crouched lower, gloved fingers curling under the window sill and tugging with the same amount of force that Sam had done, all in sync with him.

”What are we even looking for?” The younger boy muttered in skepticism, holding the window pane up as Sam shoved the crowbar back in his bag and dropped down into the room below. It’s a short drop, most likely the attic, with boxes stacked high enough to climb down with ease.

“The guy that lives here is a real meth head, from what I’m told. Client wants his money.” Nathan could only imagine what kind of people Sam got caught in the scene with— drug addicts, gang members, mob bosses, the kind of people you’d usually avoid at all costs. But not Sam. 

“We get a cut. Big money, Nathan. This guy’s dealer has a fullscale _layout_ of the house.” Sam stepped back up, holding up the pane while the younger boy slid down beside him. Sam let it close with tentative care, the lock having been broken and laying on the roof for quick escape if there was no others available to them.

Nate decided on not saying anything— once or twice, he’d slipped up and dug for information on Sam’s so-called ‘friends’. He’d get irritated quick by those questions, and would hold petty grudges because of Nathan’s _concern_.

Sam had always been a stubborn man, his entire life, and Nathan’s worries sure as hell didn’t seem to change that. Or his relationship with Crystal— _god_ , he needed to stop thinking about that, her, or Sam. The more he did, the harder it became to look Sam in the eye. 

“The guy’s on vacation, so there’s not much to worry about. A few security cameras, but it won’t be hard to take them out.” 

Sam nudged his shoulder, and Nate shook from his train of thought. “You’re not still mad about earlier, are you?” The older sibling quirked his eyebrows in mild concern, and Nathan snorted.

“No, I was just— hoping we don’t have to do this for a while, is all.” Sam flicked the flashlight on, attached to the backpack strap on his shoulder, kneeling to push the attic door open and letting the latter elongate with it. “I know how you feel about it; we won’t have to for a long time, okay?”

Nate wouldn’t lie; he’s a thief, and it’s what he does best. But he doesn’t just outright steal from people, unless it was the only other valid option. If he could avoid it, he would— but being his age, and Sam with his wild streak, this was the only source of income that would keep them alive. They’re relatively quiet for the duration, exempt a few off-handed remarks and the occasional look at Sam's blueprints. 

"Here." The older man stopped dead in his tracks, facing the wall nearest to them. A portrait scaled the wall; maybe it was meant for decor, or maybe _someone_ was especially narcissistic. Nathan could feel a shudder rip up his spine, eyes of the figure in the painting wide and unblinking.

"Shit. We have to move this." The older man raked a hand through his hair, and glanced at Nate. The teen simpered, and Sam bumped him with his shoulder in teasing vengeance. 

Nathan reached for one corner of the portrait, with Sam on the opposing end, and they lift. It's a generously tall painting, and god, it's heavy as  _hell_. They prop it against the wall, farthest from their area of interest. Samuel paced back to the wall, dropping his bag from his shoulders and taking the flashlight from the strap.

He stood up again, pulling a closed knife from his back pocket. "Hold this for me." Sam held out their source of light, and while Nate did, Sam ran his fingers along the wallpaper. Sam stopped once the crease became visible, and he nicked the wall with the knife. The man ripped a strip straight across, and along came the vault. 

Nathan jerked his head around by the wind howling outside, exhaling nervously when he'd come to realize what it was. He turned back, and his older brother had his ear pressed to the safe and his hand on the dial. The teen held his breath, baited and waiting for the oncoming ticks. Sam's focus was instantaneous, brows knitting together and jaw set firmly. 

Nate liked seeing him this concentrated; like the world fell around him, and it was just  _Sam._

The safe churned rhythmically, and Sam whipped the barrier open. "Jackpot." The older man grinned, and Nate could hear the thrum of his heart in his ears. Sam would always surprise him, pretty face and all. Nathan shifted on his feet, and for a moment, he lets his guard down.

Until the alarm goes off.

"Holy fuck—" Nate cut himself off, whipping back to Sam. He'd stuck his hand in the vault, and boom— security enhancement, feigning normality. Nathan hadn't even thought about it, how the safe wasn't digitally operated, despite the wealth of its owner. "Go!  _Go!"_ Sam barked, and Nathan was livid on his feet.

Sam grabbed as much as he could, dumping it all in his bag and shrugging it on his shoulders while he ran well past. "Roof, Nathan!" They ran the corner, and Nate climbed up the stack. He pushed up the window pane, and when Sam held it up, he crawled through. 

The teen held it while Sam climbed through, closing it with tentative movement. The alarm rang loud, and for a moment, Nate was light headed when they scaled the side of the building. When they're on ground level, Sam made for the forest.

Nate almost felt safe, he almost felt like— police sirens waled, and a car jerked up to the gates. Then there's two, and three— "Stop!" An officer ordered, and Sam cursed under his breath. They don't stop. There's more officers getting out, and when they're neck deep in the woods, Nate could hear their footsteps in the snow, pursuing them.

His eyes didn't leave Sam's back.

They run for what felt like forever— the police grow distant. Sam doesn't stop, until the lake came into view. Nathan paused, gazing towards the path they'd ran, and swallowed the lump in his throat. Sam was breathing hard, until he turned back to Nate. "We have to cross it." The teen could feel his fingers twitch, shoulders tense. "What?" His mouth felt numb. 

Sam squeezed his shoulder. "It's fine, we're  _fine,_ okay? Nothing's going to happen." He almost believed Sam, then. The older sibling took one step on, and the other foot followed soon after. "Nathan," He started, and Nate finally took a step on the ice. "We can't stick close, alright? I don't know how thin it is, but.. Stay in front, and I _will_ make sure you get across."

The teen was reluctant, but he nods, persuaded by the intensity Sam could emit. Nathan walked slow, one foot after the other, and Sam watched the treeline. Nate felt his heart pound through his rib cage when he heard an unfamiliar voice command other strangers.  _Fan out._ Nate almost stopped, but the older man coerced him. 

The dead of night hindered his bravery. The teen didn't stop, though, even when turning to make sure Sam was still there— a third of the way, Nathan stepped, and a crack ripped through the ice. "Sam—" The boy started, and when he stepped again, the ice cracked further.

"No, no, don't move. Look at me. Up here." Sam's voice was strained, but cautious, like he was resisting the temptation to feed into the panic. Nate glanced up, and Sam's arm outstretched when he stepped forward once. Nathan couldn't breath, eyes owlish and terrified.

The ice rippled, and he's left in a catatonic state. Nathan trembled when he could see officers appearing from the underbrush. "Sam," His lips parted, and his arms slowly raised, reaching for his brother— he could see the moon and the stars.

The ice gave way, and he's submerged. The last thing he could hear was Sam, _screaming_.

* * *

_"Please don't do this. Nathan, please, I need you.. oh, fuck."_

He sputtered, and gasped for air. Sam's arms were wrapped around him, and they're warm, god, they're  _warm—_ he's being carried. His clothes are soaking wet. He couldn't feel anything. His eyes slide open, and his older brother's face was.. the rings around his eyes are tinged red.

He'd been crying.

Nate reached out, and while his own fingers were pale white and deteriorating in blood flow, he touched Sam's cheek. The man jerked, his gaze on Nate. While the relief is evident, he doesn't stop the pace he'd been keeping. Nate tried to say something, anything to make him feel better, but everything failed to process in his mind. He blacked out again.

_"We're going to get you warm, pal."_

He woke up again in a room. It's dark, albeit the flickering of.. a fire, in a fireplace. It's a small place, reigned in by a single bed and noncommittal furniture scattered among the cabin. Nathan had a duvet wrapped around him, stripped down to his boxers and as close to the warmth as he could possibly be. Sam's fingers run down his face.

Nate grunted, and Sam filtered the air with a broken noise of relief. The teen rolled over, and Sam combed back his hair. "Hey," Nate drawled out, eyes looking for reason. Sam had an arm wrapped around him, keeping him bundled while he smoothed out his hair. Nathan's stomach rolled pleasantly.

"Hey, yourself." He responded affectionately, tightening his hold over Nate. The boy adjusted his head, tilting to face Sam. Nathan furrowed his brows in confusion. "What happened?" Sam's face twisted, and Nate couldn't restrain himself.  _You fell in._

The teen lifted his head up, catching at Sam's mouth and pressing a kiss there. The older man exhaled, lips parting when Nathan nipped at him. Sam's palm cupped his cheek, nails scuffing at the nape of his neck. Sam choked on a sob when he pulled away.

His brother had never cried in front of him before. Sam wasn't easy to succumb, and didn't show a lot of grief. Nathan didn't know what to do, or what to say. "I thought I had  _lost_ you." Sam strained to keep quiet, looking a wreck and still, as handsome as ever. 

Nate had almost died.

He didn't know how they got away, but Sam did it. He promised to get Nathan across, and he did— he  _did._ "It's okay, I.." Nate whispered, and Sam pressed his forehead against Nathan's shoulder. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought you." Nate ran his palm down his brother's back.

"I would have gone with you, no matter what." Nathan broke out in a dull smile, and Sam pulled him closer. "I couldn't protect you." He muttered, the watery disposition leaving Nate's stomach in knots.

"Sammy," The teen wrapped an arm around Sam's neck, and the older man shifted to pull Nate in an upright position, and then in his lap. The blanket clung loosely at his bare shoulders. "..this isn't your fault."

The older man burrowed his face in his neck, and Nate swallowed when Sam kissed at his skin. Nathan shifted, a soft noise escaping him, comfortably slotted against his brother. "Don't, baby." Sam gripped at his hip, but the teen caught at his ear lobe with his teeth and tugged sweetly. "Nathan, I don't want to hurt you."

Nate flicked his tongue against the shell of his ear.

 

"You won't."


End file.
